After Everybody Left

The elevator chime grew still.

The last coat vanished down the stair.

You pull your chair up to the wood.

And breathe the soft and open air.

The room belongs to us tonight.

Your paper cup is warm and sweet.

The empty rows of desks lie dark.

No sounds come from the street.

No phone will ring for hours now.

No urgent email pops up green.

Just steady work in quiet rooms.

And yellow light upon the screen.

The room belongs to us tonight.

Steam rises up from paper white.

The shadow stretches long and thin.

Everything will be alright.

Sometimes the midnight holds a gift.

A quiet space to hear your mind.

When all the hurry disappears.

And leaves the restless days behind.

The room belongs to us tonight.

You take a sip and let it rest.

The silent hours pass along.

We do what we do best.

The paper cup cools in your palm.

The room stays still without a sound.

You are doing fine right here.

Peace is what we found.

The main overhead lights go dark.

The hallway carpet turns to black.

You clean your desk and stay right here.

There is no need to look back.

You do not have to hurry now.

The small green lamp shines on the desk.

The outer hallway turns to shade.

We have the whole room to ourselves.

A printer hums across the floor.

Then settles down into the night.

The air feels cool against your face.

The yellow bulb gives simple light.

You do not have to hurry now.

The screen glows blue against the wall.

The clock keeps ticking soft and slow.

The rest of them have all gone home.

The city outside turns off its sign.

The high-rise windows one by one fade out.

We sit in comfort in the dark.

Forget the noise and all the doubt.

You do not have to hurry now.

The quiet settles on the floor.

Just take a breath and take your time.

I will sit here right by the door.

The desk lamp holds its gentle glow.

You stretch your arms and lean right back.

The heavy work is almost done.

Sleep well whenever you go home.

The microwave chimed long ago.

The coffee cooled down on the tray.

You hold the dark ceramic rim.

And watch the evening drift away.

It gets a little easier now.

The heavy ceramic mug stays warm.

The city lights shine through the glass.

Safe inside from any storm.

The lines of text run clear and clean.

Without the voices in the room.

The blue light paints your folded sleeves.

And pushes out the midnight gloom.

It gets a little easier now.

You hold the mug with both your hands.

The quiet building keeps you safe.

Nobody makes demands.

You do not need to prove a thing.

The late hours work for you at last.

The clock ticks slow upon the wall.

The hardest part has passed.

It gets a little easier now.

Set the mug down on the wood.

The silence feels like company.

And everything is good.

The black coffee rests in the cup.

Your shoulders drop, your breathing slows.

The night is kind to those who stay.

Where gentle water flows.

The long carpet stretches wide.

The vending machine glows red and blue.

You press the button on the wall.

And watch the can drop through.

There is no rush at all.

The cold metal can rolls down the slot.

The hallway echoes soft and low.

You give it all you got.

The floor is cool beneath your shoes.

The exit sign bleeds green and quiet.

You pop the tab and take a step.

Away from daytime riot.

There is no rush at all.

You hold the cold aluminum tight.

The long line of doors stays shut.

We own this lonely night.

It feels like standing on an isle.

Where nobody can reach your hand.

A simple drink at one o'clock.

Right where you want to stand.

There is no rush at all.

The bright light shines upon the floor.

Take a slow sip as you walk.

Back to your office door.

The cold can rests against your palm.

You walk back slow down empty space.

The quiet night is holding you.

In a safe and simple place.

The heavy metal doors slide back.

The mirrored walls look bright and bare.

You push the silver button down.

And float up through the air.

The building rests beneath our feet.

The silver button lights up bright.

We move between the quiet floors.

Surrounded by the night.

No busy crowds to push inside.

No awkward talks about the day.

Just numbers counting on the panel.

Washing doubts away.

The building rests beneath our feet.

The soft bell dings at level four.

The tall brass doors slide open wide.

Across the polished floor.

The cables hum a quiet song.

It rises up into the dark.

A secret ride through empty space.

A little quiet spark.

The building rests beneath our feet.

You step out into gentle shade.

The night belongs to you right now.

The heavy feelings fade.

The elevator doors slide close.

You stand alone in silent grace.

The late hour keeps you safe tonight.

In this familiar place.

Your old dark jacket hangs right there.

Behind your seat upon the frame.

The air conditioning blows cold.

The quiet stays the same.

Take all the space you need.

Your denim jacket keeps you warm.

The office sits in total peace.

Far away from harm.

You pull the sleeves around your arms.

And lean back in the padded chair.

The screen shines soft against the dark.

With time to spare.

Take all the space you need.

The soft cloth rests upon your skin.

The city sleeps beyond the glass.

Let the calm settle in.

You do not have to fix it all.

Just move your fingers slow and steady.

The jacket feels like a friend's embrace.

When you are almost ready.

Take all the space you need.

Wrap the thick coat around your chest.

The night shift works in quiet ways.

To bring you to your rest.

The jacket holds the warmth inside.

You close your eyes a little while.

The room is soft, the night is kind.

You rest here with a smile.

The clock turned two a moment back.

The work no longer feels like pain.

You watch your mirror in the pane.

Beside the gentle rain.

The heavy part is over now.

Your own reflection looks back calm.

The glass feels cool against your head.

Like a quiet balm.

The yellow streetlights glow below.

Like amber dots along the street.

The whole wide city lies asleep.

In silence so complete.

The heavy part is over now.

The dark window shows your outline clear.

The quiet hours surround the room.

There is no fear.

At two o'clock the world changes key.

It stops demanding what you lack.

You sit alone and do your work.

With no one on your track.

The heavy part is over now.

Lean your forehead on the glass.

The distant cars are far away.

The late hours slowly pass.

The glass is cool, the mind is clear.

You turn back to your desk once more.

The night shift carries you along.

To what lies at the door.

The metal heater clicks and hums.

Below the tall dark glass frame.

You rest your hand upon the warm iron.

Everything feels the same.

The city sleeps so soundly out there.

The radiator gives its heat.

The midnight sky is deep and wide.

Above the silent street.

You look out past the river bridge.

Where red signals blink in line.

The warm air rises from the floor.

Everything is fine.

The city sleeps so soundly out there.

Your hands grow warm upon the metal.

The dark world rests in easy sleep.

As all your thoughts settle.

A single taxi rolls on by.

Its yellow lights cut through the dark.

Someone else is awake like you.

A quiet human spark.

The city sleeps so soundly out there.

The iron radiator hums so sweet.

We watch the night together here.

In our quiet retreat.

Warm air fills the small corner space.

You take your hand off the warm frame.

The city sleeps, but you are here.

Safe within the frame.

The black ink pen lies on the page.

The lined paper rests in place.

You mark the final line today.

With a calm and quiet grace.

You did enough for one night.

Close the black notebook on the desk.

The rest can wait for morning light.

Give your mind a rest.

The list is checked, the page is full.

No need to write another word.

The silence in the room tonight.

Is the sweetest sound you heard.

You did enough for one night.

The paper cover folds down tight.

The desk lamp casts a smaller shadow.

Everything is right.

It takes some courage to stop right here.

To say the work can wait till nine.

To step away from what you do.

And draw a quiet line.

You did enough for one night.

Slide the notebook in your bag.

The midnight hours are almost through.

No need to linger or lag.

The notebook rests inside your pack.

Your desk is clear, your fingers still.

You did good work throughout the night.

Now let the silence fill.

The small office kitchen stands dark.

The water cooler bubbles low.

You fill your clear glass to the top.

And watch the water flow.

It is quiet enough to hear yourself.

The cold water sparkles in the cup.

The blue light flickers on the wall.

No need to hurry up.

The tile floor feels cool and clean.

The fridge gives out a steady hum.

You take a long sip in the shade.

Before the morning comes.

It is quiet enough to hear yourself.

The water bubbles in the tank.

The little room is cool and grey.

In this quiet bank.

It is nice to stand here alone.

No one asking for a file.

Just cold water and quiet air.

To rest a little while.

It is quiet enough to hear yourself.

You hold the cold glass in your hand.

The midnight peace surrounds you now.

Right where you stand.

The glass is empty, clean and clear.

You set it down upon the tray.

The water cooler hums its song.

To wash the noise away.

Your worn sneakers rest under the desk.

Untied laces drop on the floor.

You stretch your toes and take a breath.

Beside the open door.

We are almost at the end.

Your comfortable shoes stay near.

The quiet carpet holds our weight.

There is nothing left to fear.

The three o'clock hours slip along.

The screen brightness turned down low.

Your feet feel relaxed and free.

With nowhere else to go.

We are almost at the end.

Tie your laces loose and slow.

The hard work is behind us now.

In this gentle glow.

The night is moving to its close.

The darkest hour has already passed.

Sit back and let your body rest.

We reached the end at last.

We are almost at the end.

The old sneakers are on your feet.

The room is calm, the work is done.

The silence feels complete.

You stand up slow and stretch your arms.

The sneakers soft against the floor.

We made it through the long late night.

Ready for the door.

You turn the heavy steel door key.

And step outside the back door frame.

The night air hits your quiet face.

The street without a name.

The night air feels so cool and clear.

The brass key feels heavy in your hand.

You sit upon the concrete step.

Above the quiet land.

The alleyway is completely still.

A breeze moves through the trash container.

You draw a breath of cool night wind.

No feeling could be plainer.

The night air feels so cool and clear.

You hold the key fob in your palm.

The stars look faint up in the dark.

Everything is calm.

Five minutes out here in the dark.

Washes the screen light from your eyes.

The night shift gives this simple space.

Beneath the open skies.

The night air feels so cool and clear.

The concrete step is cool and grey.

You take another deep clean breath.

Before you go away.

The key turns smooth back in the lock.

You step inside and close it tight.

The night air stays inside your chest.

A quiet, steady light.

Your hand moves to the plastic edge.

You feel the tiny circle key.

The bright blue monitor goes black.

And leaves you standing free.

Rest your eyes for a moment.

The power button clicks so quiet.

The screen goes dark and settles down.

Away from daytime riot.

The fan slows down its rhythmic spin.

The desk turns into simple dark.

The four o'clock hour comes around.

Without a single mark.

Rest your eyes for a moment.

The black screen reflects no light.

The silence fills the empty space.

You made it through the night.

No more words to read or type.

No more numbers on the grid.

You did what needed to be done.

Just like you always did.

Rest your eyes for a moment.

The office turns to gentle shadow.

The long work night has reached its end.

Softly as a meadow.

The monitor is cold and dark.

You pack your bag and zip it tight.

Your eyes can rest in peace right now.

Good night to the night.

You turn the winder on the blind.

The thin plastic slats turn wide.

The dark sky turns a subtle shade.

From black to grey outside.

The morning is coming slow.

The window blinds let in the light.

The soft grey sky spreads on the glass.

Ending the long night.

The streetlights turn off one by one.

The distant mountains start to show.

You watch the dawn come gently in.

With its quiet glow.

The morning is coming slow.

You pull the cord and lift them high.

The pale cold light comes softly in.

Across the morning sky.

It is not a loud or sudden shift.

Just blue turning to silver grey.

A quiet welcome to the world.

To start another day.

The morning is coming slow.

The dust specks dance in light so thin.

The night shift ends in simple peace.

As morning settles in.

The sky turns soft and lighter blue.

You watch it from the open window pane.

The night was kind and held us safe.

Through all the quiet rain.

You slip your coat around your chest.

And walk toward the exit sign.

Your hand presses the metal bar.

Across the heavy line.

We made it through the quiet night.

The heavy glass door opens wide.

The morning air meets your warm face.

As you step outside.

The pavement wet with morning dew.

The city waking up so slow.

You push the glass and step on through.

With nowhere fast to go.

We made it through the quiet night.

The metal bar gives a soft click.

The fresh air fills your tired lungs.

The street is quiet still.

Behind you lies the empty floor.

The desk, the lamp, the dark hallway.

In front of you the morning comes.

To open up the day.

We made it through the quiet night.

The glass door closes slow behind.

You leave the night shift far away.

With peace of mind.

The heavy glass door latches shut.

You stand upon the sidewalk street.

The air is fresh, the world is new.

The journey feels complete.

The first bus rolls up to the curb.

Its headlights shine through morning mist.

You climb the step and find a seat.

Upon the morning list.

The day is starting soft and calm.

The yellow bus seat feels so warm.

The window hums against your head.

Safe away from harm.

A few quiet people sit spaced out.

No one speaks, we just rest our eyes.

The bus glides down the empty road.

Under grey morning skies.

The day is starting soft and calm.

You hold your ticket in your hand.

The streetlights turn off one by one.

Across the quiet land.

You did your part and stayed awake.

When all the world was fast asleep.

Now you can rest your weary head.

And let the calm run deep.

The day is starting soft and calm.

The motor hums a gentle tune.

We are heading home to quiet rest.

Under the fading moon.

The bus sways slow along the street.

Your stop is coming close in view.

The work is done, the night is past.

Rest now, you made it through.